


Set Aside Childish Things

by Kizmet



Series: Under an Icy Thumb [2]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Growing Up, Minor Character Death, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 20:57:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kizmet/pseuds/Kizmet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after the destruction of Vegetasai the last three Saiyans in Frieza's forces try to make a life for themselves and wait for the day when their Prince is old enough and strong enough to avenge their people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Conqueror

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Premise and characters borrowed from Akira Toriyama for a bit of non-profit fun.
> 
> The story takes place five years after events in my earlier story “Prince, Warrior, Killer, Slave”.

"I thought I was here to do business. What’s with the kid?” The lumpy greyish alien who’d come to ask for Frieza’s assistance demanded.

Frieza smiled. He reached out and ruffled the dark, flame-like hair of the boy who knelt silently at his knee. “My little pet? I’ve always been a collector of rare things. He’s the Saiyan crown prince, the last of his kind.”

Frieza’s supplicant stared at the boy with a morbid sort of curiosity. Five years ago the Saiyans had been one of the most feared races in the Galaxy. A savage, primitive species that lived for destruction. Merciless killers too early in their evolution to begin to comprehend diplomacy. By all rights they should have remained quarantined on their own planet for at least another milium. When their planet, Vegeta-sai, had been destroyed some said it was the work of the gods, rectifying their earlier mistake. Other rumors suggested looking closer to home for the architect of the Saiyans’ fall.

The boy’s appearance didn’t live up to expectations. He had a small, compact frame, a high forehead covered by a ragged fringe of bangs and almost delicate features. The boy was muscular but both his frame and features were softened by lingering baby-fat. Still, if the old stories about Saiyans were true even their infants were unstoppable killing machines but it was only in the boy’s eyes that one saw hints of what had made his race so terrible; his eyes were as black and cold as deep space.

The boy might have been a statue carved in stone as he knelt impassively at Frieza’s side. Behind his empty eyes he was picturing himself full-grown at long last, a Super Saiyan as his father had promised. He was standing over Frieza’s corpse, the lizard’s still beating heart held aloft in his hand.

‘No,’ Vegeta decided. ‘That was too quick.’ He’d rip off Frieza’s limbs one by one. He’d leave him alive to wriggle helplessly around on the floor like an over-grown maggot. He’d taunt Frieza and kick him around for years until it became boring. Then, slowly, he’d step on the lizard’s head. Gradually he’d put more and more pressure on Frieza’s skull. The lizard would beg and scream and plead for mercy but he would coldly say: “Remember Vegeta-sai?” Then he would step down and Frieza’s skull would burst like a melon dropped on concrete.

Or maybe he’d cut Frieza’s tongue out like they’d threatened to do to him. Then Frieza wouldn’t even be able to beg. Frieza would make desperate, pathetically inarticulate little gurgles while he mercilessly slaughtered him. He wouldn’t rip off Frieza’s limbs, he’d use his ki to burn them off, an inch at a time...

Reluctantly Vegeta pulled himself out of his fantasies.

“So you need another planet,” Frieza said. He laughed. “I swear you use them up faster all the time. It’s going to cost you.”

“You’re nothing but a highway bandit Frieza,” the lumpy alien complained. “It’s an infinite Universe, it’s not as if we’re ever going to run out of them!” Vegeta felt a stirring of contempt for the alien, it was obvious he had no clue as to what he was dealing with.

“But most nice, inhabitable planets are inhabited. Aren’t they?” Frieza said pleasantly. “And you need me to clean a new one up for you. And you haven’t even paid off the interest on the last planet the Cold Family arranged for you.”

Frieza showed his teeth when he smiled. “Of course you don’t have to do business with me. You could send out your own ships. Search until you found a suitable world with inhabitants weak enough for you to disinfect the planet without my help. How long do you think that would take? Fifty years? A hundred? Why, your people would have died a dozen times over by then!”

“All right! You’ve got us over a barrel, you bastard. We’ll pay your price.”

“Ahhh, so rude. Maybe I don’t want to do business with you after all.” Frieza sighed. “I think I’d get more pleasure out of parking my ship in orbit around your polluted little planet and watching while you suffocate from breathing your own emissions.”

Vegeta watched understanding bloom in the aliens’ eyes. Some species went for generations without direct dealing with the Cold Imperial Family. They lived on their little planets, paid their annual tithes and pretended that their planet had never belonged to someone else. After a generation it was easy to pretend that your soul hadn’t been sold to the devil.

“ Perhaps if you got down on your knees and begged I might be inclined to consider forgiving your tone and naming a price for your new planet,” Frieza suggested.

The lumpy alien’s shoulders slumped in utter defeat. He knelt. “Please, please my lord Frieza. We have been your devoted subjects for five thousand years. Please save us from our fate once again. It would be our honor to pay you twice the going rate for a new planet.”

“Three times,” Frieza said.

“As you wish my lord,” the lumpy alien sighed. He knew he was condemning his children’s children’s children to a life of indentured servitude to the Cold family, but what other choice did he have?

“It will be done,” Frieza said magnanimously.

Once the lumpy creature had removed himself from the throne room Frieza casually kicked the boy who knelt at his feet. “Well? What are you waiting for?” he snapped.

Vegeta’s teeth gritted audibly. “May I ask who that was?” he asked quietly. He didn’t even blink when Frieza’s tail cracked like a whip raising a welt on his cheek.

“Such a stupid little monkey. The Vixy have been subjects of the Cold Empire for generations. You should know them on sight. I can’t imagine how the Saiyans managed to pull themselves from the muck of their planet if you’re supposed to be the best they could produce.”

Vegeta imagined using Frieza’s severed head as a kickball while he bowed politely and backed out of the throne room.

As soon as Vegeta was out of Frieza’s sight he scowled darkly. When an unfortunate technician scurried past him Vegeta struck out at the man viciously. The wet sound of the tech’s body breaking against the wall relieved a part of rage Vegeta felt over Frieza’s treatment of him. He continued on his way, leaving the critically injured tech to bleed out in the middle of the hallway.

When Vegeta walked into the Records office the tech managing the room took one look at the welt on the boy’s face then quickly dropped his eyes. His voice shook as he asked, “How may we serve you Vegeta-ouji?”

“Find me a planet suitable for the Vixy. Make sure you pick one that can put up a decent fight,” Vegeta ordered. His mood was slightly mollified by the man’s obvious fear of him.

“It will be as you ask Vegeta-ouji. You will have the co-ordinates within the hour!”

“I will hold you responsible for seeing that my team is accompanied by a properly stocked supply pod for the mission,” Vegeta said. He noted the look of despair in the man’s eyes and made a mental note to have Nappa double check that they had the absolute necessities.

That done Vegeta headed back toward his quarters.

Nappa glanced up when Vegeta walked in. “You were broadcasting your thoughts again,” the hulking Elite fighter reprimanded. “There are true psychics in Frieza’s forces. Just because no one’s been able to eves drop on this team-bond thing yet doesn’t mean you can afford to get sloppy.”

“Nag,” Vegeta muttered.

“I liked the one where you were cutting steaks out of Frieza and making him watch while you cooked and ate them,” Radditz contributed. The wild-looking eighteen-year-old laughed. “I’ve always liked a good lizard-fricassee.”

“Yuck!” Raditz’s girlfriend said. Appura flicked a raspberry-colored plait over her shoulder. “I’ve eaten some pretty disgusting things in my time, but Frieza? Really Vegeta-ouji, it’s a wonder you don’t get food poisoning just thinking about eating something that rotten.”

Raditz leaned over Appura’s shoulder and kissed her cheek. “Silly girl, enemies are always good eating.”

“We’ve got a mission coming up,” Vegeta said. “I think Kiwi’s going to try to screw us on supplies again.” He glanced at Nappa. “Make sure we don’t starve en route at the least.”

“I’ll see to it Vegeta-ouji,” Nappa replied.

Raditz’s grip tightened on Appura’s shoulders.

“Don’t worry!”she exclaimed. “We’ve got enough food stockpiled in here to last me a month. I won’t even stick my nose out of the door. Our rooms are rigged like a fortress and if someone does get in I’ll escape into the maintenance shafts. It’s beneath Frieza’s dignity to follow me in there. Dodoria’s too fat to fit. Zarbon would be slowed down trying not to get his clothes dirty and I run faster than Kiwi. I’ll be fine. Trust me love, I’m not worth the trouble it would take for them to get me.”

Raditz didn’t look reassured.

“Oh come on! I was born on one of Frieza’s planets! I know how to take care of myself!” Appura exclaimed.

“You weren’t with me then,” Radditz argued. “You know Frieza’s got it out for us.”

Appura leaned back to kiss him. “It could be worse. I could be sleeping with Vegeta-ouji.”

“Like I’d want you,” Vegeta muttered sulkily. But he didn’t disagree that out of the three of them he was the most dangerous to get close to.

“I’ll be careful, I swear,” Appura promised. “When will you be leaving?”

“The pods are being prepped now,” Vegeta said. “We’ll take off as soon as they’re ready.”

 

* * *

 

Twenty-eight hours later the Saiyan pods entered their target’s solar system.

**Communication Incoming** flashed across Vegeta’s scouter. “Acknowledged,” he said.

Kiwi’s oily voice assaulted Vegeta’s ears. “It seems we can’t spare a clean-up crew. I’m afraid you’ll just have to take care of it yourself. I hope that it isn’t a problem. Oh and the Vixy expect to move into their new planet in eight days.” His revenge for his failure to short them on supplies, Vegeta was certain.

“Fine,” Vegeta said flatly and terminated the link. He felt the planet’s gravity well take hold of his ship and braced himself for impact.

The three pods plummeted toward the surface of the peaceful planet. They landed with all the finesse of a bullet tearing into a body. Life in the alien city came to a crashing halt as all eyes fixed on the Saiyan ships.

The pods cracked open and the Saiyans stepped out to survey their latest battlefield. Raditz and Nappa moved to flank their young prince. Vegeta surveyed the crowd coldly. “We have come to destroy you,” he stated. “Summon your champions. Let them try to stop us.”

The first to answer Vegeta’s challenge was a unit of the planet’s peacekeepers. Raditz blew them away with a single ki-blast. Several more units followed. Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and watched with bored disinterest as Raditz dealt with each in turn.

When a lone fighter, a tall masked man wearing close fitting clothes that displayed clearly defined muscles arrived Vegeta tapped his scouter. He studied the read out for a moment then waved Nappa forward.

“I could have taken him,” Raditz complained.

“You got your turn kid. Now shut it and watch how an Elite takes care of business,” Nappa said.

“Why do you attack us?” the masked man asked as he squared off against Nappa.

“Hey Vegeta, is there any particular reason we’re here?” Nappa called over his shoulder.

“We’re evicting you from the planet,” Vegeta answered the masked man coolly. “A bunch of morons who can’t figure out how to stop polluting their planet decided that they wanted a fresh start on yours.”

“You have no right!” the masked man protested as he and Nappa clashed.

Nappa snapped the hero’s back over his knee and cast the dying man aside. “Haven’t you heard? Might makes right.”

The next hero to arrive was smaller than the first but he carried himself with a calm certainty in his own ability.

“Mine,” Vegeta stated after checking his scouter.

Nappa shrugged and quit the field.

“I do not fight children,” the newest challenger declared.

Vegeta shrugged. “Fight me and die or stand there and die. It doesn’t make a difference to me.” Vegeta attacked the hero with a flurry of punches. Despite what he’d said both Nappa and Raditz could see that Vegeta was holding back, waiting for the other fighter to realize that he was a threat.

At first the man just blocked but after a few seconds he retaliated. He couldn’t deny the power and skill that was hidden by Vegeta’s childish form.

Vegeta was impatiently waiting for puberty for two reasons: First, most importantly, he was certain that once he grew into his full strength he would achieve the level of Super Saiyan and would finally have the power to destroy Frieza. Second, he was sick and tired of constantly being under-estimated. He was Vegeta-ouji of the Saiyans. He was a fearsome warrior, it had been more than twelve years since he’d been blooded. He was NOT A CUTE CHILD!!!!!

After a few moments Vegeta and his opponent took their battle to the skies.

Nappa watched them speculatively. The other fighter had an edge over Vegeta in terms of raw power. He was obviously a highly skilled warrior but Nappa didn’t think he really had anything on Vegeta there. Vegeta was young but he’d been engaged in near constant warfare since he’d been five years old. Despite his age, Vegeta was no novice. The other fighter was aiming to disable rather than kill. Nappa wasn’t sure if it was Vegeta’s appearance; the Prince looked closer to eight than to his actual fifteen years; or just some odd hang-up of the other fighter’s that kept him from using lethal strikes but it was going to cost him the fight. Vegeta never hesitated to go for the kill when he fought.

Vegeta fired a ki blast then flew after it. The other fighter batted the ki blast aside. The movement left him open when Vegeta slammed into him like a cannonball. The other fighter coughed up blood, his sternum cracked, his ribs broken. Vegeta crushed the man’s throat and finished him off.

The city watched in horror as their favored son crashed to the ground, murdered by an alien child, the youngest and notably smallest of the three invaders.

“Do it,” Vegeta said. The three Saiyans systematically leveled the city. They cut down everything over an inch tall then slaughtered everyone they found hiding in basements.

“They’ll be mobilizing their armies and readying WMD,” Vegeta said. “Raditz, start whittling down the armies. Don’t get in over your head.”

“Do I ever?”

“Do you honestly want me to answer that?” Vegeta replied.

“I would have gotten out of that,” Raditz argued.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. “Nappa, the WMD’s are your problem. I don’t want even one to go off. They make a mess and-“

“I know what I’m doing. I was doing this long before you were even born,” Nappa snapped.

“Then don’t screw up,” Vegeta returned. “I’ll move on to another city and keep on taking challengers.”

 

* * *

 

It took four days for the Saiyans to quell all organized resistance to their invasion and to crush the planet’s spirit.

“Your champions are dead. You’re armies have been crushed,” Vegeta stated bluntly in a planetary broadcast. “If you wish to live you must prove your value to Frieza and the Cold Empire. Wait for us with a hundred bodies in front of your city and your miserable life will be spared. You have one solar day.”

“Vegeta, we haven’t taken care of the space ports yet,” Nappa pointed out.

“Leave them,” Vegeta replied. “There’s no fun in killing the ones who’d run.”

“They’re more fun than the ones who’ve lost the will to do even that much,” Raditz commented.

“Vegeta!” Nappa protested.

“There’s no clean-up crew coming, we’ve got four days left to clear the planet,” Vegeta stated.

“He’ll know. Frieza will see the ion trails leaving the planet and he’ll know you let them escape,” Nappa argued.

“There’s no other way!” Vegeta yelled. “What do you care anyway? I’m the one who gets punished!”

Nappa punched the boy. Slowly Vegeta stood back up. He wiped a thin trail of blood from the corner of his mouth. “Either we miss our deadline and I get punished or we leave them an escape and I get punished. It’s my choice. I control what it’s for. Understood?”

Vegeta glared fiercely at Nappa and it was the older Saiyan who glanced away first. Nappa let the subject drop, he couldn’t take what little control Vegeta managed to assert away from the boy.

That night the Saiyans set up camp near their pods.

“Wanna bet they try attacking us in our sleep?” Raditz asked.

Vegeta lobed a rock at the teenager. “Stop being an idiot. When have any of them ever not tried attacking us as soon as they think our guard is down?”

Raditz retaliated with a loosely packed ball of muck. Vegeta contemptuously batted the missile away. Then he blinked in shock when it disintegrated on contact to cover him with a spray of muddy water.

“I dare you to do that again!” Vegeta shouted.

Raditz grinned, shrugged and reached down for another handful of muck.

Vegeta jumped on his shoulders. The sudden attack left Raditz sprawled face first in the mud with Vegeta kneeling on his back. With grunt of effort Raditz forced his face up long enough to gasp for breath. Vegeta promptly smacked him in the back of the head.

“Would you two stop screwing around like a couple of idiot kids?” Nappa snapped.

“Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed,” Raditz whispered as he and Vegeta broke apart.

Vegeta snickered.

In the distance they saw black clouds of smoke billowing up from the planet’s cities. “They’ve started,” Raditz commented. His voice was thick with disgust at the thought of how the planet’s inhabitants were turning against each other in an attempt to preserve their own lives.

The next day the Saiyans flew out to survey the damage Frieza’s newest recruits had done to their world. Nearly every city was in flames and bodies were stacked up like cord-wood around them.

Vegeta’s eyes were filled with contempt as he looked at the turncoats and their grisly trophies.

“All right scum, you’ve proven that you’ll kill on command. Wait for pick up at 46.8, 80.9.”

“So you’re not making them wait on a polar ice-cap this time?” Raditz commented quietly to Vegeta.

Vegeta shrugged. “Why waste a good dessert? If they’re too dumb to survive we don’t want them anyway.”

“Lets go to work.” Nappa said. He focused for a moment then spat out a powerful ki bolt. It leveled everything in it’s path for miles.

Vegeta grimaced then followed suit with a barrage of blasts. Raditz stood back and watched while the two Elite powerhouses reduced the once prosperous cit to scorched earth. He joined in when it was time to hunt for survivors.

Now it was Vegeta who hung back. Nappa glared at his young prince. “Stop being finicky Vegeta. We’re on the clock.”

Vegeta made a face and reluctantly joined in.

“I don’t know why you have to make a fuss,” Nappa complained. “It’s no different from killing techs and you do that more often than any of us.”

“Poor impulse control,” Raditz muttered as an aside.

Vegeta kicked a lump of debris in Raditz’s direction. “It is different,” he insisted. To himself he added. ‘I’m not mad right now, and the ones that hide aren’t scum like the ones who take Frieza’s offer.’

They’d just given the new recruits their marching orders at the fiftieth city when a woman ran out and prostrated herself at their feet. She’d been hiding among the corpses. “Please spare me,” she begged. “I’ll do anything, just don’t kill me.”

Vegeta and Raditz refused to even look at her. Nappa grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to her feet so that he could get a better look at her. “So you want to be my little whore?” he asked with a nasty laugh.

The girl bit her lip the nodded.

“If you’re going to screw around you can finish this city on your own,” Vegeta declared and took to the sky. Raditz followed him a second later.

“Other side of the planet?” Raditz asked quietly. Vegeta nodded.

The distance didn’t really help. The psychic bond between the three Saiyans still reverberated with Nappa’s lust and the girl’s agonized screams.

Raditz watched Vegeta out of the corner of his eye as they systematically leveled another city. Among the third class Saiyan soldiers the older team members had always looked out for the younger ones like older siblings. Raditz was only three years older than Vegeta but looking across the gulf of the Saiyan primary growth phase he was an adult and Vegeta was still a child. He felt responsible for his young prince.

“You know Nappa’s got something broken in his head, don’t you?” Raditz asked Vegeta. “Liking it like that is not normal.”

Vegeta blasted several people who had been fleeing in terror and pretended not to hear Raditz.

“Vegeta?” Raditz pressed.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. “Nappa’s not the only one who broadcasts,” he said quickly. “And you’re supposed to be the one who’s got experience with this damn telepathy crap! As if I didn’t already had incentive to figure out how to screen you two out... Sex, gross.”

Raditz was torn between embarrassment and relief that the kid had something for a healthy standard of comparison when it came to relationships.

 

* * *

 

They finished clearing the planet then assisted the Vixy in their migration. After that was done Frieza broke six of Vegeta’s ribs and gave him a severe concussion for allowing so many to escape. Vegeta spent the night in a Regen Tank but in the morning his left eye was still puffy and swollen.

 

 

 

 


	2. Destroyer

When Vegeta climbed out of the Regen Tank, the attending medical technician immediately noticed the boy’s lingering black eye. The startled technician tilted Vegeta’s head so that the light fell squarely on his injured eye. Vegeta snarled threateningly in lieu of flinching away from the painful brightness.

The tech stared at Vegeta’s eye in disbelief then grabbed a medical scanner. He took Vegeta’s vitals then he spent several moments glancing nervously between the Prince and the readouts.

“Well? What does it say?” Vegeta demanded impatiently.

The med-tech swallowed convulsively. “It’s just a black eye. The rest of your injuries have healed. It’s nothing worth concerning yourself over. You’re fine to go.”

If Nappa had bothered to show up he would have realized that the med-tech was hiding something but it had been a long time since Nappa had made the effort to be there when his charge woke from treatment. Vegeta heard the tech say what he wanted to hear and didn’t look any deeper. He forgot about the Regen Tank’s less than optimal performance before he made it out of the door.

 

* * *

 

Six days later Vegeta sat in a booth at the back of a decrepit bar. The table was piled high with empty dishes and Vegeta was nursing a drink and complaining to himself. “I’m bored. Why should they have fun while I’m dying of boredom.”

Frieza had decided that Vegeta should be the one to collect the tithe this miserable planet owed as the price of being left alone. Vegeta was certain Frieza only gave him the assignment because he knew Vegeta despised being told to run menial errands like this one. The planets that tithed were generally worn out dumps, valuable only for the placement on trade routes and populated by refugees too beaten down to even consider resisting Frieza again. To make matters worse, both Nappa and Raditz loved these missions. They gave Raditz the opportunity to buy gifts for Appura since she didn’t like it when he gave her plunder from one of their purges. Vegeta didn’t see the difference between items taken from the purges and ones bought with the money they were paid for the purges but Raditz happily indulged Appura’s oddities. Nappa simply liked getting off the ship to a place where he could fool himself into believing that his world hadn’t been destroyed for a few hours. Neither of them cared about Vegeta’s offended dignity and the fact that he found worlds like this one mind-numbingly dull. .

* * *

  
“Saiyan,” the low whisper carried across the room. The sheer venom in the voice made it stand out from the background noise in the bar. It jarred Vegeta out of his funk. He glanced around the bar to see if Nappa had heard. The older Saiyan was thoroughly absorbed in his drinking.

“Don’t,” another voice hissed. Vegeta only heard it because he was listening for it. “Haven’t they killed enough of us already?” Vegeta spotted the speaker several tables away. He was one of a group of felinoids with short, velvet black fur. They were all watching him superstitiously. They looked at him like he looked at Frieza.

“I thought the bastards were all supposed to be dead. Thought an asteroid got them.”

“Idiot. You think any space faring race gets wiped out completely by the destruction of their home planet? We’re here aren’t we?”

“He’s just a kid, even if he’s Saiyan we could take him.” Vegeta fumed silently at being dismissed as a threat yet again.

“The one at the bar’s not a kid. And it only took five of them for the genocide.”

“So we lure the kid off. Get him back to the warren. One less Saiyan in the Universe is always a good thing.”

One of the felinoids curled it’s hand lightly. Heavy, three-inch claws emerged from the backs of his knuckles. “It would feel so good to have Saiyan blood on my claws for once.”

“Fine, if we can lure the young one away.”

Vegeta sneered to himself. “You think I’m easy prey? I’ll teach you!” He purposely avoided watching the one approaching his table until the alien was right beside him.

“You look bored kid.” The felinoid bared it’s fangs in what Vegeta assumed was supposed to be a friendly manner but the creature couldn’t disguise the hatred burning in it’s washed out blue eyes.

Vegeta pretended not to notice. “What’s it to you?” he huffed.

“I’ve got kids your age. This isn’t a place for kids. Are you alone here?”

Vegeta glared at the back of Nappa’s head. “Might as well be.”

Even across the room Nappa felt the ire in his Prince’s gaze. He turned around and saw the felinoid hovering beside Vegeta. A moment later he noticed the rest of it’s group watching Vegeta with predatory intent. //Vegeta?//

//Go back to your drink sot. I finally found something to entertain me.//

Nappa tapped the scouter over his eye and scanned the group. ‘Nothing Vegeta can’t handle,’ he decided. //Take it outside before you start.// he thought back at Vegeta.

Vegeta sneered but decided he had better things to do than remind his bodyguard of his place. Vegeta turned his attention back to allowing the felinoid to persuade him from the safety of the bar. He assumed that the felinoid’s species must attain full size at a relatively young age. Either the creature was seriously underestimating his age or he thought Vegeta was extremely stupid. Vegeta reconsidered, ‘Maybe it was just that the felinoid, Garr or something, was extremely stupid to think that anyone would actually fall for his act.’

The felinoid couldn’t hide how much he loathed Vegeta despite his efforts to be friendly and appealing. Vegeta did his best to hurry things along. He wanted to fight not play games!

After several minutes of stilted conversation Garr got around to inviting Vegeta to leave with him. Vegeta resisted the temptation to roll his eyes as he accepted. He sensed the rest of Garr’s party dogging their steps.

Garr led Vegeta down a series of rough hewn stairs. Vegeta fidgeted impatiently, ‘When were they going to get around to attacking?’

‘They’d been right to call this place a warren,’ Vegeta decided. The ceilings were low and the walls were heavy slabs carved from the planet’s bedrock. ‘Using the False Moon technique in here would be bad,’ Vegeta decided. ‘It’s too small and too solidly built. The oozaru’s size would be more hindrance than help.’

Vegeta was minutes away from losing patience and attacking his ‘guide’ just to get things moving when they arrived. The tunnel broadened out into a community hall even though the ceiling stayed low.

Without prompting Vegeta walked to the center of the hall and waited.

The group from the bar filed in behind Garr to block the entrance. More of the felinoids appeared through side doors until the big room felt almost crowded.

Still they maintained a healthy distance from Vegeta. Their uniform, dark pelts blended into the shadows and made it hard to see where one creature ended and the next began. Their pale eyes shown in the dim lighting. They were never still, they moved constantly, fluidly, around the edges of the room. They never took their eyes off of Vegeta. Every one of them started at him with the same loathing that filled Garr. Whispers of ‘Saiyan’ and ‘Demon’ filled the air. Their tones indicated that the two words meant the same thing.

Vegeta felt a flicker of worry over the shear numbers he was facing given his limited arsenal. He pushed it away, he didn’t need the oozaru to deal with these loosers.

“Well? Are you going to stare at me all night or do something?” Vegeta demanded.

One of the cat-creatures stepped forward. There was a thick gold torc around his neck. Vegeta recognized it as a crown. “Boy, I doubt you are old enough to remember it, but your race descended on my people and destroyed us in a completely unprovoked attack. Your race is a race of murders responsible for thousands of genocides. Your life is a poor substitute for the justice we crave... but we’ll take what we can get. And we will take pride in knowing that billions of lives will be spared by taking your life now before you can fulfill your race’s proclivity for murder.” The felinoids’ king scowled. “If the Universe were a sane place a race such as yours would never have been allowed to exist.”

The spark of irritation Vegeta had felt over being dismissed as a child blossomed into deep hatred. Saiyan history was nothing but a long string of encounters with races who didn’t believe that Saiyanjins had the same right to exist as everyone else. One after another they’d taught those races respect... Until Frieza anyway. The Saiyans hadn’t been strong enough to force Frieza to recognize their right to exist. Vegeta hated his people for that, for being weak, for leaving him alone. All the same, he would avenge them. They were his people and Frieza had murdered them. He’d never whine about the unfairness of what Frieza had done though. If life had taught him anything it was that the only rights a person had were the ones they were strong enough to take.

Vegeta bared his teeth in a vicious grin. “I am Vegeta, the Saiyan Prince. I take full responsibility for all that we have done. But no one gave us anything, generosity is not a part of my make-up. If you want justice from me you’ll have to take it, just as we took everything we ever had!”

“As you wish boy.”

 

* * *

 

When Nappa picked up Vegeta’s thought pattern slipping into the hyper-charged, crystal clarity of battle he was only surprised by how long it had taken.

He didn’t worry when seconds stretched into minutes and Vegeta was still battling intently. He hadn’t though the felinoids would put up that much of a fight, still Nappa didn’t worry. He knew Vegeta could fight for days on end if he had to.

When Vegeta’s sharp-edged, ultra-aware state of mind shattered into almost strobe-like flashes then Nappa felt the first real stirrings of concern. He flicked on his scouter and, after a few minutes, zeroed in on Vegeta’s ki reading. The readings surrounding Vegeta hadn’t gotten any stronger but they’d grown many times more numerous. Worse yet Vegeta’s reading was steadily dropping. There was little doubt in Nappa’s mind that his prince had been injured.

The bulky, balding Saiyan hurried out of the bar. He followed his scouter reading only to discover that Vegeta was deep underground. Nappa assaulted a passer-by and quickly secured a guide to the warren’s entrance. Once he started into the tunnels there was nothing more the guide could do for him. Angrily Nappa killed the man then hurried on.

The ki signatures surrounding Vegeta were beginning to thin out but Nappa couldn’t find reassurance in that. Vegeta’s power had dropped so much it was barely distinguishable from the felinoids now. Vegeta’s thoughts had taken on a strange, disconnected feel. The boy didn’t know where he was or why he was fighting anymore.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of rushing down dead-ends Nappa broke into the community hall.

Vegeta thrust his hand through the last surveying felinoid’s chest and ripped out the alien’s heart. The walls of the cavern were painted with blood. Vegeta stood knee-deep in bodies. He looked up at Nappa and smiled brilliantly as he held out the still beating heart. “Nappa, look what I did,” he said, his voice was filled with pride and untarnished happiness.

For a moment Nappa felt the years fall away and Vegeta was a small child again, gleefully displaying proof of his first kill. Then Vegeta swayed and fell to one knee. Nappa kicked the black furred bodies aside as he rushed to his prince’s side.

“Vegeta-ouji, where are you hurt?” Nappa demanded.

Vegeta blinked up at him in innocent confusion. After a moment he put one hand against his side. Nappa gently pulled Vegeta’s hand away and grimaced at the amount of fresh blood that welled up to mix with the enemy-blood that already soaked Vegeta’s clothes.

“Oh hell kid,” Nappa whispered.

* * *

 

Nappa watched the standard blue restorative fluid in the Regen Tank turn a rich purple as Vegeta’s blood mixed with it. Normally Saiyans didn’t bleed much. They’d evolved so that they could take massive amounts of damage and keep fighting. Wounds scabbed over quickly to avoid sending the body into shock. Vegeta was bleeding too much.

The med-techs scurried around the infirmary hectically. There was barely restrained terror in their eyes when they stole glances at Vegeta’s towering bodyguard.

Nappa had been there when Vegeta took his first steps. He shivered at the realization he might have been watching the boy’s last steps when he watched Vegeta walk out of that bar . What was he supposed to do without Vegeta? Since time immemorial Nappa’s ancestors had served the Saiyan kings as bodyguards and advisers. Since Vegeta’s birth he had been Nappa’s assignment. What purpose did Nappa’s life serve if he were to survive his world, his people and now his prince?

An older tech, a true doctor appeared in the door. His less experienced colleagues flocked around him. Their hysteric babbling drew Nappa out of his thoughts. The doctor calmly looked over Vegeta’s medical records. “Pull him out of the tank,” he ordered.

Nappa grabbed the doctor by the throat. “What are you doing! He’s not healed yet!”

“And if he stays in there he never will heal,” the doctor replied. “Now get out of the way or watch while he bleeds out.”

“If he dies not one of you will walk out of this room alive,” Nappa promised.

The doctor waited while the restorative fluid drained from the Regen Tank. “I had family living in the enclaves on Vegeta-sai,” he said conversationally. “They lived as a conquered people but at least they lived, until Vegeta-sai was destroyed of course. You Saiyans didn’t act like monsters when you were home.”

Nappa watched the doctor suspiciously.

The doctor gently removed the respirator from Vegeta’s mouth then lifted the boy out of the tank. He laid Vegeta on a table and spent a few moments examining the wound in his side. “Summon your other teammate,” the doctor said. “He’s lost too much blood. I’m going to try a technique from my planet: a transfusion. It’s primitive compared to the Regen Tank but the tank isn’t working. His body, even with the tank’s assistance, isn’t generating fresh blood in sufficient quantities to make up for what he’s losing. I’m going to sew this hole shut then fill him up with blood taken from you and the other Saiyan.”

Nappa gritted his teeth. //Raditz! Get your butt down to the infirmary!// he ordered. But his expression was still doubtful.

While the doctor worked he kept talking. “History is a hobby of mine,” he said quietly. Nappa realized the doctor’s voice wouldn’t carry over the hubbub of the infirmary, wouldn’t be recorded by Frieza’s listening devices. “Before the Saiyans came the Cold family was just one of a hundred mercenary bands working the planetary black market. Rumor has it that the first Boss Cold got his start by decimating his own race and selling the planet off to the highest bidder. Back then there was a Union of Planets, a governing body with it’s own military force. That force kept people like the Colds in check. But then the Saiyans came and signed on with the Boss Cold of their day and age.”

Raditz walked into the infirmary. His eyes widened in alarm when he saw Vegeta with the doctor working over him. “He says he’s helping,” Nappa said. Raditz nodded, he took a position at the Elite’s shoulder and waited for further orders.

“Every race produces a few truly phenomenal fighters,” the doctor continued. “Heroes or villains who possess powers which far surpass the abilities of the bulk of their kind. The Saiyans were different, fighters who would be considered supernatural for any other race were considered baseline by the Saiyans. It was the early Saiyan breeding programs, of course. Most races are at least a little wary of the superbeings who emerge from their ranks, they set them apart. Saiyans didn’t, they embraced them and deliberately worked to spread their genes throughout the population.”

The doctor directed Raditz onto another table and set up the transfusion.

“With the Saiyan’s entrance on to the Intergalactic stage the Cold family suddenly had tens of thousands of battle-hardened super-soldiers at their disposal. It over set the balance of power for the entire galaxy. It allowed a gangster to set himself up as an Emperor.”

“If Vegeta dies, you die,” Nappa reiterated.

The doctor paid Nappa no mind. “But I think that the Saiyans could have been the cure for what ails this galaxy, not just the disease. To most people the Saiyans were nothing more than the Cold family’s thugs. Even after the Colds’ mercenary army grew large enough to out number the Saiyans they were still the only race to have joined as a race. We look the rest of them and see a few bad eggs. We looked at the Saiyans and saw a race of destroyers. But those of us who had contact with Vegeta-sai saw something more: Life under Saiyan rule was tolerable. Saiyans don’t set out to eliminate every decent aspect of the people around them... And, most importantly, Saiyans happily delegate non-combat decisions. If your people had disposed of the Colds we would have had a Union of Planets again within a few generations and we would have had a Saiyan military to protect us from any new threats.”

“There are no more Saiyans,” Nappa said bitterly.

The doctor finished bandaging Vegeta’s smaller wounds. “There are still the three of you,” he said. He nodded to Vegeta. “That boy is the galaxy’s best hope to break the Colds’ strangle hold. I want him to live as much as you do.”

Nappa came closer to examine the doctor’s work. The bleeding had been stopped and Vegeta’s color looked better. He nodded his satisfaction.

“To that end we need to minimize his use of the Regen Tanks. Ideally he should be pulled from combat for six months to allow him to recuperate fully.”

Nappa snorted in disgust.

“But I know that’s not an option. Instead I want you to page me every time he needs medical attention. If it’s not life-threatening we’ll find other methods to treat him. That way when it is a matter of life and death the Regen Tanks will be more effective, because we’re going to keep him from over-using them.”

“I know he wants to kill Frieza. Let me help him achieve that goal.”

 

* * *

 

Of course saying they needed to keep Vegeta’s injuries to a minimum was easy. Actually doing it, not so much so. The highlight of Vegeta’s life was finding the best possible fight every time they made planet-fall, persuading him that he couldn’t do that anymore was a challenge. Keeping him out of fights with Frieza’s officers was impossible. Vegeta’s pride wouldn’t allow him to back down from anyone less than Frieza himself and that same pride had ensured that every one of Frieza’s officers had it in for the Saiyan prince.

Zarbon glared down his nose at the flame-haired boy crouched defensively in front of him. The boy’s tail was wrapped closely around his waist and his eyes glittered with outrage.

“I am Prince Vegeta of the Saiyans!” the boy snarled furiously as he launched himself at the larger warrior. “You will show me respect!”

“Don’t you get it you little brat? You’re the Prince of a dead race! The future King of a handful of stardust. In other words you are nothing special.” Zarbon said coldly as he knocked the boy to the floor and pinned him there by planting his foot firmly on the boy’s chest. “You were a Prince; you were the son of Frieza’s ally. Now you’re just another soldier in his army. You have no world to go home to. You have no army behind you. You have no position and no rights in this organization beyond those you can earn with your fists. Now I admit you’re good enough to survive, even without that idiot of a bodyguard’s help and that’s not bad for a little brat. But I am Lord Frieza’s right-hand man. I am your better and you will acknowledge me as such or you’ll be spending the next two weeks in a Regeneration Tank, do you understand me you stupid little monkey?”

Despite the foot on his chest and an eye that was rapidly swelling shut Vegeta contrived to look bored. “Blowhard,” he muttered. “In love with the sound of your own voice.”

Zarbon drew back his foot to kick the downed boy and in that second Vegeta was back on his feet. He smirked smugly. Zarbon smoothly changed the angle of his attack and smashed his heel into Vegeta’s stomach. The young prince crumpled to his knees. Zarbon kicked him viciously then grinned at the sound of cracking ribs.

Nappa stepped out of the crowd. He wondered how he was supposed to get his prince out of this mess. Vegeta glared at him. “Nappa! Stay out of my fight!” he snarled as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.

“Yes Nappa, let the brat learn his lesson,” Zarbon said mockingly. “The next time he mouths off at me I might just kill him.” He sneered at the boy. “But today I’m in a good mood so I’ll let him off lightly.”

‘It’s hopeless. Keeping him alive is hopeless,” Nappa thought as Vegeta ducked, just a fraction of a second too slowly and Zarbon’s vicious kick connected with the boy’s jaw. Vegeta’s head snapped back violently. The loud crack and the way Vegeta suddenly went limp, like a puppet with all it’s strings cut, told Nappa that the boy’s neck had been broken.

Nappa formed a large ball of ki in his palm.

Zarbon looked at him like he was a bug. “Are you challenging me bodyguard? You’re barely stronger than the brat Prince. Do you truly want to die for him that badly?”

Nappa laughed out-right. “It’s my duty. My king’s last request.” He grinned broadly and there was no sanity in his expression. He raised his hand toward the ceiling, toward the outer skin of the ship. “How well do you breathe vacuum Zarbon? Vegeta and I are the last of the Saiyan Elite, it’s only fitting that we arrive at the gates of hell in the company of our enemies.”

“You don’t have to do this! He’s still alive!” Kiwi shouted. He pushed through the crowd until he was standing between Zarbon and Vegeta’s crumpled form. Nappa could see the numbers appearing on Kiwi’s scouter as he looked at Vegeta and knew that he’d spoken the truth. “Take your Prince, Nappa. No one here will try to stop you.” Kiwi turned to Zarbon and hissed, “Or do you want to tell Frieza about how you broke his favorite toy? Assuming this lunatic doesn’t kill us all.”

For a tense minute Nappa held on to his ki blast. He stared at it almost longingly. There was an appeal to the thought of returning to his people in a blaze of glory. Of taking down at least a few of their murderer’s top henchmen as he died. But Frieza did breath vacuum quite comfortably and the thought of leaving him alive turned Nappa’s stomach. He let his ki dissipate. Very, very carefully he picked up his prince and started walking toward the infirmary one more time.

The doctor put Vegeta into an induced coma for three months to ensure the boy’s injuries wouldn’t be aggravated. Then he pumped him full of nutrient solutions in the hopes of rebuilding Vegeta’s reserves enough to give the Regen Tanks something to work with.

During the second week Frieza make his presence known. The tyrant lizard stared down at the still and pale Saiyan Prince with a pouty expression on his face. “This won’t do,” Frieza announced. “It won’t do at all. I will not allow Vegeta to die while he still clings to his silly little belief that he’ll be able to beat me someday. When he crawls at my feet, his spirit completely crushed then he may die, but not before then! I’ve never met such a stubborn, prideful brat. Ten years beneath my boot and he still holds fast to his nonsensical ‘Super Saiyan’ legend. I won’t have it!”

Once Vegeta recovered Frieza called a ship-wide meeting. Vegeta knelt at Frieza’s side, his face eerily blank and his thoughts full of bloody murder.

“It seems you’ve been playing too rough with our Vegeta-chan,” Frieza tsked.

Nappa and Raditz both fought the urge to react to the mental images Frieza’s comments elicited from Vegeta.

“Now I want you all to be careful because Vegeta’s life is mine to take or spare as I see fit. If any of you deprive me of that pleasure I’ll take your life as compensation, understand?”

 

* * *

 

That night Raditz found Appura hiding in the small room the two of them shared.

“Frieza made it a ship-wide broadcast,” she explained. “I heard too.”

“Vegeta knows you. He wouldn’t kill you unless you actually did something to tick him off,” Raditz assured her.

Appura shrugged. “I haven’t lived this long by assuming people won’t kill me,” she said. “How many did he kill on the way back to our quarters?”

“There was a unit of mid-rank mercs too stupid to clear the halls,” Raditz admitted. “They put up enough of a fight for Vegeta to work most of it off.”

Vegeta spent the next several months restricted to light duty, with none of Frieza’s officers willing to chance fighting against him. The death tolls among the lower-level fighters and non-combatants who crossed Vegeta’s path shot up exponentially in response.

Eventually Nappa started sparring regularly with Vegeta out of concern that the young Prince might actually incite Frieza into killing him if he didn’t have another outlet for his aggression. Vegeta’s temper was so badly frayed that no one could be sure how he’d lash out or what might cause him to snap.

 


	3. Adolescence

Appura curled up in her favorite chair in the central room of the Saiyans’ quarters. Sometimes she felt caged by the need to keep her presence on Frieza’s ship a secret, but she’d discovered that she really did love reading. She’d never had time for anything of that nature in her previous life, scrabbling for the basic necessity used to take up every moment of every day. Now she had more time than she knew what to do with. But it was worth it, her life with Raditz much more than compensated for occasional moments of boredom. She had someone who loved her and maybe someday the two of them could manage to put a real future together for themselves. They talked about it, about someday finding a way to escape Frieza once and for all, and then they’d be free to do anything, to live.

The sound of the cabin door sliding open startled her. Vegeta stood framed in the doorway. At the sight of him Appura dropped her book and jumped to her feet. She stood froze, waiting for some indication whether or not she should run.

Vegeta’s expression clouded with disgust. “I’ve never hurt you,” he said.

Appura relaxed. “No my lord, but the first time would likely be the last,” she replied. “For the first time since I can remember I’ve got something to live for. It’d be a damned shame to die now, so forgive me for being a little cautious.”

Vegeta stepped forward and let the door slide shut behind him. “I don’t see what Raditz likes about a weakling like you,” he sneered. Then he stomped past her to the supply cabinet.

Appura retreated to the door of the room she and Raditz shared. There, she paused to watch Vegeta root through the cabinet. “There’s a box of ration bars on the shelf over the spare uniforms,” she said.

Vegeta grunted in reply. He checked where she’d suggested and found the ration bars. The bars were too calory dense in his opinion. They filled nutritional needs without filling the stomach. In the end food was food though. Vegeta forced himself to eat slowly in an attempt to convince his body of the bar’s nutritional worth. He knew scarfing a box full of the things would only make him sick later. He wondered if something funny was being done to the food in the mess hall because he thought he’d eaten plenty but here he was, starving just a few hours later.

Appura was still watching warily from across the room. Vegeta scowled at her. ‘Stupid girl, acting like I’m some sort of wild animal.’

‘She was petty,’ he supposed, ‘with her petite frame, long raspberry plait and pale, pinkish skin.” Her features were delicate: a small mouth and nose set in a heart-shaped face. Her large, wide-set eyes were such a dark blue they could almost pass for Saiyan black. And when Raditz was around she didn’t carry herself quite so much like a timid mouse. When Raditz stood beside her the unbroken core of her being shown. Maybe he could see what Raditz liked so much about her.

Vegeta snickered to himself. ‘And these days she was clean and dressed in clothes that were light enough to actually see that she was a girl.’ He remembered that hadn’t been the case when Raditz brought her home with him two years ago. Back then she’d been bundled up in layer upon layer of an assortment of every sort of mismatched clothing that she had managed to lay her hands on. And none of it looked like it had been washed in a very long time. Vegeta couldn’t imagine how Raditz had seen anything desirable in that packaging and yet he’d begun pursuing her a full year before he’d brought her home. It had been a slow courtship, and Vegeta knew that it had been by Raditz’s choice. Nappa had heckled him endlessly about it, but Raditz had been determined to win Appura’s trust before they got together and trust was the first thing that got beaten out of a person under Frieza’s rule.

Before she came to stay with them, Appura had lived in the lower levels of one of Frieza’s refueling stations. She told them she’d been born there, the child of one of the bits of sentient detritus that collected around Frieza’s bases.

Nappa was far from the only fighter who got propositioned by people willing to trade their bodies for survival. Some of the fighters actually kept their end of the deal, at least to the extent of getting them off the planet in one piece. A few of the ones that made that deal found their way into the ranks of support personnel who kept Frieza’s military running, occasionally there was even someone who eventually joined the ranks of fighters, but most of them ended up living on the outskirts of the Bases and Way Stations. They lived the life of scavengers. Like the rats and other vermin it would have taken more effort than it was worth to clean them out. Appura came from that class.

After his Primary Growth phase Raditz had become increasingly restless. He had been searching for something, and whatever it was he found it in Appura. Nappa had rolled his eyes and told Raditz to take her and get it over with, but what it was that Raditz wanted wasn’t that easily gained. Raditz wanted her to smile when she saw him, he wanted someone to come home to. Raditz wanted what his parents had had before Vegeta-sai was destroyed. So Raditz had spent that first year being heckled by Nappa and driving Vegeta crazy with his moping... ‘Really, that was the only reason I helped him sneak off to see her so many times. How else was I going to get away from his sighing and belly-aching,’ Vegeta thought to himself. But in the end Raditz’s efforts had paid off. When Appura came home with Raditz there had been no question in either of their minds that she came because she wanted to be with him and not because she was afraid of him. Ever since then Appura had been sharing Raditz’s room.

For the most part Vegeta ignored her, but lately he’d started finding her more distracting. Obviously he wasn’t getting challenging enough missions if a girl was worth noticing, particularly Raditz’s little guttersnipe.

 

* * *

 

Three months after Frieza’s edict Vegeta was still chaffing at being constrained to light duty. The planet he’d been ordered to clear was something he could have handled solo when he’d been seven. It was humiliating that Frieza thought him so weak. Worse than that such an easy assignment did nothing to distract Vegeta from how much he hated what he did. Fighting was one thing, engaging in slaughter was something else entirely. On top of that, they’d refused to turn on one another, Vegeta respected them for that. Even if the face of impossible odds they’d remained united rather than trying to secure their own survival at the cost of their brethren. They hadn’t deserved to be swept away to make room for a bunch of low-lives who’d make deals with Frieza. And yet, even under such miserable circumstances it had been a relief to Vegeta to be off the ship. The only reason Vegeta had been able to force himself back into his pod after the mission was done was the knowledge that Frieza would know where he was if he just stayed.

Discontentedly Vegeta watched the stars flashing past his pod’s view port as it made it’s way back to Frieza’s ship. He knew he should be sleeping. Watching stars was boring and failing to trigger his pod’s hibernation mode would mean running dangerously low on oxygen during the return trip.

The pods provided the bare minium for interstellar travel: propulsion and protection from the vacuum and cold of deep space. They provided a breathable environment, but only in extremely limited quantities. It was only by employing hibernation state, nearly indistinguishable from death itself, that journeys of more than a day could be possible in the pods.

Vegeta knew he should sleep but he didn’t want to. He spotted a solar system at the very edge of his vision’s limits and impulsively laid in a new course. While Nappa and Raditz continued on asleep and unaware, Vegeta silently slipped away.

The solar system turned out to be a disappointing place. The best of the three planets was a barren cinder just large enough to hold on to an atmosphere. Logic told Vegeta he should climb back into his pod and reset a course for Frieza’s ship. Instead he found a cave near one of the planet’s polar ice-caps.

He had air, shelter, water, a scant handful of ration bars and nothing else. Staying there shouldn’t have appealed to him, only it did and so he stayed -

\- For five days, until Nappa and Raditz found him.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Nappa demanded as he picked up the young prince and shook him. “Do you want Frieza to kill us all?”

Vegeta brought his knees up then kicked Nappa in the chest with both feet. The two Saiyans broke apart. Vegeta rolled to his feet and glared at Nappa. “I am your Prince! I do as I like and you do as you’re told!”

“My prince you may be, but you’re also a brat kid with all the sense of a stone,” Nappa growled back. “Now get in the damn pod and get back to the ship!”

“No!” Vegeta declared. He obstinately crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do it or I’ll beat you unconscious then stuff you in the pod myself!” Nappa threatened.

“Try,” Vegeta snarled.

Nappa flew at Vegeta, ready to make good on his threat. Raditz intercepted the larger Saiyan. The third-class fighter grunted in pain as the collision broke several of his ribs but he pulled himself to his feet. Determinedly Raditz planted himself between Nappa and Vegeta. “He’s still sick!” he cried.

Nappa glared darkly at Vegeta. “You deal with the little idiot,” he snapped.

Raditz sighed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Vegeta declared with a sulky expression on his face.

“Vegeta-ouji, please tell me why you came here,” Raditz begged.

Vegeta didn’t bother to reply but Raditz saw that confusion dominated the boy’s eyes.

Nappa turned back toward them, a look of comprehension dawning in his eyes.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Raditz asked.

Vegeta hesitated. He honestly didn’t know why he wanted to be there and he had run out of ration bars a day ago. He could go without food if he had to but as a rule Saiyans required an extremely good reason for fasting. Vegeta had an unarticulated impulse telling him he’d rather be here, anywhere, rather than being on Frieza’s ship. Still, he was hungry now and he knew he’d be even hungrier tomorrow.

“Please Vegeta-ouji, lets go back to the ship,” Raditz pled. “There’s nothing for you here.”

Vegeta grimaced, he didn’t look at Nappa. “Fine,” he huffed.

* * *

 

“Vegeta’s on the mend isn’t he?” Appura asked Raditz several days later.

“Well he hasn’t gotten busted up for quite a few months. The doc said that’s all he needed,” Raditz replied. “Why?”

“Doesn’t he look a little gaunt to you? And lately he’s been moving like he’s hurt,” Appura explained.

Raditz laughed. “And it’s about time too. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s started his Primary Growth phase, finally. That’s why he’s been acting like such a nut lately.”

“This is good,” he said. “They say Vegeta-ouji had more potential than any Saiyan born in ten generations. This is what we’ve been waiting for. When he comes into his full strength maybe we’ll be able to get quit of Frieza once and for all.”

If Raditz had any doubts about his diagnosis the following week laid them to rest. Vegeta gained nearly two inches in height and nearly crippling pain in his joints as his tendons failed to keep pace with his lengthening bones.

* * *

 

Nappa walked to the mid-way point of Frieza’s throne room then knelt. He lowered his head respectfully.

“Where’s Vegeta?” Frieza demanded peevishly.

Nappa swallowed harshly. His heart thudded heavily in his chest as he stood before Frieza. In spite of all the years they’d spent in Frieza’s service Nappa wasn’t accustom to dealing with the lizard himself. Frieza didn’t have any interest in him. When Nappa stood at Vegeta’s shoulder Frieza paid him about as much attention as he’d pay a chair. More often than not Nappa found himself ordered to wait outside while Vegeta dealt with Frieza alone. This time Vegeta wasn’t available to do the talking. “Vegeta has entered his primary growth phase,” he explained. “For that reason I would like to request that he be taken off the active duty list for the next six months.”

“It’s not as if he’ll be of any use until he’s done growing,” Frieza acquiesced with a sour expression.

Nappa breathed a sigh of relief. “I would also humbly request permission to remove him from the ship until this phase is finished. Vegeta’s ki will be destabilizing soon, it would be safer for everyone if he were dirtside before that happens.”

“Leave him on some hostile planet while he’s so vulnerable?” Frieza chuckled, his mood brightening immensely as he remembered the mental effect their Primary Growth phase had on Saiyans who were incapable of finding a someplace they felt secure to wait out the change. “I won’t hear of it. He’ll stay close to me... where I can keep an eye on his safety.”

Nappa winced. “You honor us my lord,” he said and managed to keep most of the sarcasm out of his voice. He bowed and excused himself.

Back in the Saiyans’ quarters Vegeta glared furiously up at Raditz. “You tricked me,” he snarled. “I don’t want to be here. I knew I didn’t want to be here. You tricked me into coming back!”

Raditz watched the younger boy warily. At the moment he knew he could beat Vegeta in straight fight. Vegeta’s rapidly growing body simply made him too awkward to fight at his normal level. Still Vegeta as a child already had more power than Raditz did as a grown adult. Raditz didn’t want to risk getting hit with a ki bolt from his ill-tempered prince.

“Vegeta-ouji, you would have starved long before you finished growing,” Raditz protested. He wondered if Vegeta had any expectations of what his Primary Growth phase would be like. Raditz remembered that before Vegeta-sai had been destroyed he had expected to spend the six months with his parents. It had been rare for his whole family to find a chance to spend time together; his father’s squad had been one of the top ranked squads and in high demand, his mother supported long range missions and was away from Vegeta-sai for up to a year at a time, and of course he had his own missions. But his parents had thought it was important to provide him with a secure environment while he was vulnerable and they’d both been making arrangements to be with him. His mother had even expressed a wistful hope that his baby brother might be born with a high enough power-level to not be set on an infant mission or if he were that he might be home by the time Raditz began his Growth Phase. His father had been more wary of disappointment, he didn’t want to think about becoming attached to the expected baby until they were certain that Kakarrot would survive.

“Nappa is trying to get permission to go someplace better to wait this out,” Raditz told Vegeta in an attempt to provide comfort. On that note Nappa returned. Raditz looked to him hopefully. Nappa shook his head.

“Nappa, let’s go,” Vegeta ordered. “I want out of here.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Nappa said. “Frieza’s orders.”

At Frieza’s name Vegeta’s eyes took on a feverish light. Hate and fear and his instinctual drive to find a safe haven combined to make even the thought of Frieza intolerable. “I don’t care what he says. I say we’re leaving. Nappa, order them to ready the pods. Raditz, go pull your wench out of which ever closet she’s hiding in. We’re leaving.”

“What’s with Appura?” Nappa asked.

Raditz gestured to a scorched patch on the wall.

“That was an accident,” Vegeta muttered. “And it’s not like I hit her or anything.”

“Ki surges,” Nappa said to himself. He turned to Vegeta. “We’re not going anywhere. Frieza enjoys screwing with you too much. He’ll just hunt us down if we leave. And that’s assuming you survived the trip.” He pointed at the scorch mark. “You do that to a pod chances are you die in deep space. We’re stuck, so suck it up and face reality.”

Vegeta drew himself up to his full, but still insignificant, height and glared up at Nappa. “You’ll pay for talking to me like that.”

“Your father, King Vegeta, ordered me to take care of you,” Nappa replied. “And in spite of every stupid stunt that you’ve pulled, I have. I’ve kept you alive. And I’m going to continue following your father’s orders. We’re not going anywhere and that is final.”

 

* * *

 

Two months into his Growth Phase Vegeta sat curled up in a chair in a miserable ball. He drew his knees up to his chest as he indulged in a bout of self-pity. He knew that the more he stayed active the faster he’d get back into fighting form once this was over. Still his joints hurt when he moved and his pride hurt when he stumbled or bumped into something because he was bigger than he was used to being.

Vegeta’s expression turned sulky. And it wasn’t like he’d enjoyed being constantly underestimated for the last fifteen years! He couldn’t argue that appearing small, child-like and harmless had given him an edge in fights, at least in fights against people who didn’t know him, but who said he wanted it?

The way he looked made people pity him. It made them want to save him. No one wanted to save Nappa. He hated being pitied. He didn’t need to be saved. He had a mission. His father had given him a mission and he would see it completed. Even if his father was dead he would prove that he was strong enough to complete the task he’d been given. Even if it was too late to save the Saiyan people he would avenge them. Even if he would never return home to the accolades he so richly deserved he would see Frieza’s reign ended.

The doctor came in. “Ah, Vegeta. Ready for your check-up?”

“Why the hell do you keep pestering me?” Vegeta snapped. “I’m not injured. There’s nothing wrong with me. I don’t want you here.” Still he stood up and allowed the doctor to examine him.

The doctor scanned Vegeta than manually tested the range of his joints. Vegeta cursed and scowled darkly throughout the process.

“Your height-to-weight ratio is getting a bit high. You’ve grown over a foot in the last two months.” Vegeta grinned at the doctor’s comments. “This problem was anticipated given the way your body had been taxed before your primary growth phase began. I want you to eat ten ration bars a day on top of your regular meals. Other than that everything looks fine. Your ki is increasing steadily. There is no damage to your joints or tendons.”

Vegeta fidgeted under the doctor’s gaze. The look in the man’s eyes reminded him of when dozens of Saiyan teams had wandered Frieza’s bases. That gaze left Vegeta with the familiar and unwelcome feel of the weight of another’s expectations settling on his shoulders.

* * *

 

Later that day Frieza stopped by for his weekly visit.

“Oh my, Vegeta-chan! How you’ve grown!” Frieza exclaimed mockingly as he patted Vegeta’s head.

Vegeta bared his teeth and didn’t say anything. A decade in Frieza’s court had taught Vegeta to keep his face and form blank while he soothed his injured pride with promises of vengeance to come. It was harder now. Normally Vegeta’s instinctual response to threat leaned heavily toward fight. Normally he was struggling against the urge to lash out. He knew Frieza was stronger, for now, he knew he had to bide his time and he was used to that. Being in the middle of his primary growth phase turned Vegeta’s instincts up-side down. His instincts were pushing him to hide from danger, to flee now and come back for vengeance later. It was nothing different from what Vegeta had been telling himself, or from what Nappa had been telling him, for years. But Vegeta wasn’t used to fighting the urge to quail before Frieza and he hated it. His anger at his own unthinking response was harder to fight than his normal rage at Frieza. His body shook with conflicting rage and fear. He couldn’t help but give Frieza the satisfaction of knowing he was upset, he hated that as well.

“And how are you feeling today?” Frieza asked patronizingly.

Nappa and Raditz hovered in the background. They were almost as tense as Vegeta himself. They were just waiting for the day when Vegeta snapped. Then they’d have to beg for all of their lives and hope Frieza enjoyed his success in cracking Vegeta enough to forgive anything that might happen when the boy went berserk.

Frieza spent several more minutes winding Vegeta up then took his leave. A second after the door closed behind Frieza a heavy chair splintered against the wall. Nappa and Raditz watched in silence as Vegeta exhausted the extensive knowledge of profanity that he’d picked up during ten years as a mercenary.

* * *

 

Four months after entering his Primary Growth phase Vegeta flexed and stretched his fingers, the joints popped like firecrackers and he would have sworn that he could almost see his hands getting bigger. “Father should have waited,” he said feverishly. “Just five more years, he should have waited. I could have saved them. I’ll be grown soon, then I’ll defeat Frieza like he told me to. I’ll keep my promise. I will.” It was only the fifty-sixth time that day that Nappa and Raditz had sat through one of Vegeta’s rants on how he’d soon be able to defeat Frieza, about how he could have saved their people, if only...

Nappa grabbed the gangly teenager and slammed him against the wall. Vegeta screamed in outrage.

“Just shut up!” Nappa exclaimed. “Don’t you get it you little idiot! You’re never going to beat Frieza! King Vegeta lied to you! He sent you here to die and me to die with you!”

“He said I’d become a Super Saiyan here! That I’d save everyone from Frieza!” Vegeta shouted back.

“He lied,” Nappa repeated. The older Saiyan’s voice dropped to a venomous hiss. “They’re right when they call you ‘prince of nothing.’ Your father had another heir chosen even before Frieza took you. You were completely expendable to him. All he expected from you was for you to keep Frieza distracted from the real Crown Prince Vegeta.”

“NO!” Vegeta shouted. He knocked Nappa across the room with a burst of strength and stormed out of his quarters determined to get away. From Nappa, from Frieza and from a truth he couldn’t face.

Vegeta headed for the docking bay, he climbed up into the scaffolding. It was one of the few places on Frieza’s ship where he could feel like he was alone. Several minutes later Vegeta bit back a curse as he noticed Raditz following him.

Raditz dropped to the catwalk with feline grace. Vegeta scowled at the older boy, he resented that Raditz had already gotten over the clumsiness that came along with rapid growth.

Vegeta’s scowl deepened when Raditz dared to ruffle his hair before sitting beside Vegeta. ‘Third class morons really had no place outside of a barracks,’ Vegeta thought irritably.

For several minutes the two boys sat in silence on the catwalk, their legs dangling into the void as they watched the people on the deck of the hanger-bay scurry around like rats.

“My mom’s unit specialized in protecting the supply lines for the big campaigns,” Raditz said once the silence became uncomfortable. “Some of the Elites treated her like crap because she wasn’t frontline but without her they wouldn’t have eaten and you know how well Saiyans fight on empty stomachs. She did her part.”

“Your point?” Vegeta snapped.

“So did you,” Raditz said. “The way I see it you bought us six years to get ready for Frieza and that ain’t too shabby. What Nappa said back there, well he shouldn’t have said it. I know Frieza says crap about how if you’d been stronger, your father wouldn’t have attacked him and he wouldn’t have had to blown-up Vegeta-sai in retaliation. You know he just says that crap to screw with you.”

“It’s still the truth,” Vegeta replied bitterly. “Father told me I had to kill Frieza, I had to protect our people from him. If Father had trusted me, he wouldn’t have attacked Frieza. He didn’t think I could do it, he didn’t think it was worth waiting for me to grow-up. So he attacked Frieza and he got everyone killed, because he didn’t think I was good enough.”

“You don’t know that,” Raditz argued. “Frieza’s a bastard, he was probably always planning to get rid of us. Maybe there wasn’t any more time. Maybe your dad knew Frieza was going to blow us up and that forced his hand.”

“He should have trusted me. I would have saved everyone,” Vegeta insisted stubbornly.

 

* * *

 

After five months Vegeta was as lean as a wolf after a long winter. He stopped growing at five foot four inches. To Vegeta’s annoyance Raditz refused to count his hair as a part of his height. Vegea’s power leveled off at 16,000.

During the month that followed Vegeta’s tendons finally caught up with his bones. The pain he’d felt faded and his natural grace returned, then it doubled and redoubled as he became accustomed to his adult form.

From looking at Raditz Vegeta knew it would be years before he gained his adult muscle mass but he already felt stronger than he ever had. For the first time he defeated Nappa in a spar and he defeated him easily.

Then Vegeta picked a fight with Kiwi and ended up in a Regeneration Tank again. When the doctor pulled him out of the tank Vegeta saw disappointment in the old man’s eyes. It was the same disappointment that Vegeta saw in his father’s eyes while he’d dreamt in the Regen Tank.

Angrily Vegeta lashed out. At the last moment he restrained himself. “I won’t kill you. I owe you; you helped me,” he said in a low voice that sounded all the more dangerous for it’s lack of volume. “But you have no right to look at me like that.”

“Your people destabilized the Universe. You were my last hope of seeing that put to right,” the doctor replied.

“I know I have to kill him and I will,” Vegeta said. He glanced away. “Just not today.”

 

 


	4. Different but the Same

Vegeta stared out over a moldering battle field that stretched to the horizon. He watched Frieza’s engineered bacteria crawling over the bodies of the planet’s former inhabitants. Their last act would be to fertilize the world for it’s new owners. In a matter of days the planet would be remade. Then the new owners would move in and they’d repeat the same old mistakes that they’d made on their last planet and everything would play out in exactly the same way.

He’d waited so long for his primary growth phase. Now that it had happened he was stronger than he’d ever been before, but still not strong enough to challenge Frieza. He had his adult height but it would be years until his body had filled out. After all his waiting now he had to wait again. He was off restricted duty, fully healthy again and back to the same old thing. Everything had been remade and nothing had changed.

‘At least these guys put up a good fight,’ Vegeta thought as he watched the remains of his latest opponents crumble to dust. ‘I need strong enemies if I’m ever going to get strong enough to beat Frieza.’

It was time for them to go. They still had to organize the new population’s migration. Vegeta activated his scanner. It was easy to pick out Raditz and Nappa; they were the only other higher order organism left alive on the planet. As Vegeta approached Nappa’s location he saw a lone building standing among the ruins.

“What the hell are you doing?” Vegeta demanded as he stalked inside.

“Celebrating,” Nappa replied. He reached over the bar and grabbed a fresh bottle then poured himself a drink. He raised his glass to Vegeta and grinned. “You’re an adult now. It’s not my job to protect you from yourself anymore. My duty’s done.”

“Good, we finally understand each other. Now get off your ass. The job’s not done yet. We still have to organize the morons,” Vegeta said.

“Our planet’s dead,” Nappa continued. “Our race is dead; as good as dead. There were never enough females with any great potential, we had to protect them. They never left the planet. We protected them to death. There’s no future.”

“There’s still Frieza to kill,” Vegeta said.

“Good luck with that,” Nappa said. “I’m done.”

Vegeta turned around. He walked outside. He blasted the bar to bits around Nappa. “I am your prince. You will follow me. I will let you know when you have my permission to quit,” he stated darkly.

Nappa sighed. He let the remains of his glass drop to the floor. “Whatever you say Vegeta-ouji,” he agreed in a lackluster tone. “Whatever you say.”

 

* * *

 

Several weeks later Appura began feeling ill.

Raditz rolled over on his side and watched as Appura bent over the toilet. “This is the third morning you’ve hurled,” he pointed out worriedly.

“It’s just a stomach bug,” Appura replied. “Not everyone has a cast-iron stomach. These things happen, I’ll get over it.”

Raditz frowned. “I’m careful about getting you good food,” he said.

“Well what can we do anyway?” Appura asked. “Go to the infirmary? Ask if they mind treating a stow-away?”

“It’s not like anyone really cares. It’s not as if you’re the only, um, well.” Raditz flushed.

“You mean you’re not the only fighter to have smuggled a bed-warmer on board,” Appura said.

“You’re more than that,” Raditz said quickly. “You’re my girl.”

Appura smiled. “You’re sweet, you treat me like I’m important. But I’m not strong enough to fight and I don’t know enough to be a tech. I was born camp trash, I’ll always be camp trash and Frieza’s med-techs don’t waste their efforts on my kind, we’re disposable.”

“I know they act like that, but it’s not true!” Raditz snapped. Then he sighed. “Alright, I know we can just walk into the infirmary. I just want to do something. I don’t like you being sick.”

“I’ll talk to the others on the ship,” Appura said. “They might know something. At the least they might knew where I could find a backroom practitioner to check me out.”

“You find out where to go, I’ll get you there,” Raditz promised.

* * *

 

“Why did I let you talk me into this?” Vegeta complained. He helped Appura out of Raditz’s pod.

The older teenager grinned as he climbed out himself. “Because you like me,” he said. “And you know the pods don’t carry enough fuel to double up, at least not for a two way trip. So you wanted to loan Appura and I your pod so we all make it back.”

“Yes, you calculated it. According to you we’ve got enough fuel for the return trip just as long as I trade pods with the two of you for the return. And I’m supposed to trust that this isn’t going to get all three of us killed,” Vegeta grumbled.

“Like you didn’t double check my calculations,” Raditz said.

“You’re an idiot, of course I did,” Vegeta replied. “Well, lets go find out what’s wrong with the wench. It’s disgusting, listening to you talk about her vomiting every morning.”

The med-tech operated out of a basement beneath a restaurant on one of Frieza’s planets. The med-tech was a woman who was showing some signs of age. Her equipment was older than she was. Vegeta glanced around, wrinkled his nose and went upstairs to eat.

After a few minutes Raditz came up and joined him. He ordered some food then picked at it half-heartedly while watching the door to the clinic.

After Vegeta finished his own food he started snatching things from Raditz’s bowls. “My lord Brat, cut that out,” Raditz said. He waved a steak knife at Vegeta.

“I’m hungry and you’re not eating it,” Vegeta rationalized. He filched another fork full. Raditz’s knife thudded into the table. “And you’re too slow to stop me,” Vegeta added.

“And you’re a brat! That was my food!” Raditz protested.

“I’m your prince, you should be more respectful.”

“It was my food!”

“I was hungry.”

“Then order more! We’re in a restaurant you realize,” Raditz pointed out.

Vegeta shrugged. “Not as much fun.”

“You really are a brat Vegeta-ouji,” Raditz said.

“The orange stuff was good,” Vegeta commented. “You should order more.”

“So you can eat it?”

“Of course. Do you think I care about what you eat?”

“Order your own food squirt.”

“I told you: People who call me that give up the right to breath.” Vegeta scowled. “It’s not even accurate anymore. I grew.”

“Not much,” Raditz replied.

Vegeta launched himself across the table at Raditz. A few seconds later he was standing with one foot planted firmly on the older teen’s chest.

“I surrender,” Raditz cried. “From this angle you look extremely tall.”

During the brief scuffle the other patrons in the restaurant had drawn back warily. They watched the two Saiyans in much the same way that one would watch an alligator which had wandered into a nursery. From their expressions there would be little surprise from the crowd if the two teens were to suddenly begin murdering innocent bystandards.

Vegeta’s eyes narrowed angrily as he scanned the crowds. Sometimes when people reacted like that he felt like living down to their expectations. He didn’t really think about the fact that his behavior when he was in a temper more than justified their fear. When he was angry people were little more than moving targets in his eyes.

After a time Appura came back upstairs. She looked tentatively relieved. “I’m not sick,” she told Raditz. “I’m pregnant.”

Vegeta puzzled over the unfamiliar world for a moment. “The two of you are reproducing? Who thought that was a good idea?”

Raditz glared at Vegeta and wrapped his arm around Appura’s shoulders. “I think it’s great,” he declared.

Vegeta thought about it for a moment. “I suppose you’re going to expect my help when you need to come back and pick up the kid,” he said.

Appura looked confused. Raditz looked between the two of them then figured it out. “Most races don’t use gestation tanks,” he explained to Vegeta. “The baby stays in her until it’s ready to be born.”

Vegeta gave Appura a skeptical look. “Gross. How does it get out? If we try to cut it out of her she’ll probably die.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Appura said. “The baby will fit.

“If you say so,” Vegeta replied doubtfully.

* * *

 

“The two of you are getting your own quarters,” Nappa stated as soon as he heard Appura’s news. A week later he tried to recalibrate his scouter in an attempt to separate the fetus’ ki reading from Appura’s.

“Are there any other females of your species around?” Nappa asked. “Even if your brat isn’t particularly strong, it could be the father’s fault. Raditz is third class after all.”

“There’s nothing wrong with Raditz,” Appura snapped.

“You’re planning on having a girl live with us too?” Vegeta scowled. “There’s no room!”

Nappa shrugged. “We can kill the guys in the room to the left of us and take it over,” he said.

“More girls, more babies... Nappa you’re the one who said they were loud! You’re all idiots,” Vegeta declared. But idiots or not, Vegeta couldn’t miss that Raditz and Appura were happy together.

 

* * *

 

“Could you try not broadcasting when you do that?” Vegeta asked with irritation and embarrassment when Raditz emerged from his and Appua’s room with a sappy grin on his face.

Raditz claimed that the mental link they’d developed was normal for a Saiyan unit. Nappa said it was a remnant from the Saiyanjin’s past when their society had been more clan-structured. He said that the Elite had evolved beyond it. But when they’d found Raditz his mind had been like a raw wound from the deaths of his team and family, like a new amputee he’d kept reaching out with something that wasn’t there anymore. Somehow his need had woken up the vestigal ability in Vegeta and Nappa. It didn’t leave much room for privacy.

“Sorry,” Raditz said without sounding at all sorry.

Vegeta glared at him. Not so many months ago this sort of thing had been just one more irritating accidental broadcast. Vegeta and Nappa were both too new to the bond to control it completely and Raditz didn’t close his mind as much as he should because being alone in his own head reminded him too much of the months of dead silence before Nappa found him. Before it had been one of those things, no different from overhearing whining about being hungry. Now the echos of their couplings left Vegeta aching with want he didn’t fully understand.

“What’s so great about her anyway?” Vegeta asked. “We find better looking girls on the Purges. It’s not like you have to treat them the way Nappa does.”

Raditz made a face. “No thanks. Being told ‘If it’s a choice between dying or having sex with you, I’ll have sex with you,” isn’t a turn-on. Think about it. That’s why we do what Frieza says; he’d kill us if we didn’t. You know what we feel about him.”

Vegeta grinned nastily. “I’d love to feel his still-beating heart squishing between my fingers.”

“Yeah. I’d just as soon not sleep with someone who felt the same way about me, no matter what they looked like,” Raditz interrupted before Vegeta could start getting creative. “Appura’s a survivor. She took care of herself for a long time before I ever came along. She had plenty of chances to disappear if she’d wanted to. Instead she moved in with me even though she had to depend on me to look out for her while she’s on the ship. She’d be better situated to take care of herself on one of the way-station planets but she chose to be with me.” Raditz’s expression turned sappy again. “Appura’s with me because she wants to be with me.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes. “Who cares? Why do you want her?”

Raditz shook his head. “It won’t make any sense,” he said. “The first time we met she stomped on my instep then ran off. The second time I pointed out that she couldn’t really hurt me. That I’d let her get away. She dumped about a ton of crates on my head and took off again. Eventually she stopped trying to kill me and we started talking and we really liked each other. Having Appura waiting for me is like having a home-port again.”

“Why the hell would you put up with that?” Vegeta demanded. He looked at Raditz like the older boy was insane.

Raditz shrugged. “Chasing her was a hell of a lot more fun than catching someone who’s spirit was broken.”

* * *

  
Several weeks later Kiwi found Vegeta pouring over the logs of planets Frieza wanted purged looking for one that would put up a good fight. “Ah, Vegeta-ouji,” Kiwi said with an oily smile. “Frieza-sama was just looking for you.”

Vegeta glanced up from the missions roster. “Kiwi, I don’t know anyone who enjoys being a toadie as much as you do.”

“I just love seeing your face went Frieza summons you,” Kiwi chuckled. And Vegeta’s gut tightened. For Kiwi to be in that good of a mood Frieza must have come up with something particularly... creative.

When Vegeta got to the throne room and found both Zarbon and Dodoria flanking Frieza and wearing secretive grins the feeling of dread solidified into certainty. In Frieza’s army someone else’s misery was the surest way to put smiles on people’s faces.

Vegeta raised his head a fraction of an inch and marched into the room with the unshakable confidence of a born conqueror. He gave no external signals that he had seen and heard the snickers and knowing glances that passed among Frieza’s lieutenants. When he reached the precise center of the room he knelt gracefully. “You have need of me Frieza-sama?”

Frieza grinned nastily. “It has come to my attention that the ship has picked up a vermin,” he said.

Vegeta looked confused. “So?” he asked.

“I want you to kill it,” Frieza ordered. He snickered. “The vermin is roughly your height with light purplish hair. I’ve been told it’s taken up residence in your quarters and I know how sensitive you Saiyans are about intrusions into your territory... So I thought I’d do you a favor and let you handle it yourself.”

Vegeta’s mouth tasted like ashes. He was supposed to kill Appura? Radditz’s Appura?. They’d have to find a way to sneak her off the ship, send her away. ‘We’ll have to find someplace safe for her and the baby,’ Vegeta thought. He bowed his head. “Thank you for your generosity my Lord. I’ll take care of it right away.”

He stood up to leave.

“See that you do,” Frieza called after him. “You know what happens when you disappoint me.”

Vegeta felt black wave of despair and hopelessness wash over him. It was almost redundant when Frieza added. “I’ll send Kiwi by to collect the body later tonight. One must take care of such things promptly. If vermin are left uncontrolled they tend to breed, and we can’t have that.”

Vegeta walked back to his quarter in a state of shock. His mind was completely numb. He killed strangers by the hundreds of thousands on a weekly basis. He spent a good part of every day fantasizing about killing Frieza and his lieutenants. He barely differentiated between putting his fist through a wall and putting it through the skull random individuals who crossed his path at the wrong time... But it had been five years since he’d been forced to take the life of someone he liked. He’d all but succeeded in burying the memory of the sickening sensation of destroying a life that mattered to him. And he’d never tried to rescue anyone again after that miserable failure.

“Shouldn’t have let myself get used to her,” he thought almost incoherently.

It never occurred to Vegeta to defy Frieza outright. His last attempt at blatant defiance had left him all but shattered physically and mentally. Since he’d been four years old Vegeta had lived directly under Frieza’s brutal regime. He lived to destroy Frieza but at the same time he lived by appeasing the tyrant.

Vegeta let the door to his quarters slide shut behind him. He stood silently in front of the door with his head down. After a short time the other three were all staring at him expectantly. The air of foreboding was so thick none of them asked.

Finally Vegeta looked at Appura. “Frieza told me to kill you,” he said. His voice was empty of life.

For a second Vegeta’s words held them all frozen. Then, in an instant, Appura turned to run for her escape hatch and Raditz leapt at Vegeta.

Nappa grabbed Raditz and hauled the third-class fighter back. Raditz howled like an enraged beast and struggled madly.

Appura was half-way into the maintenance shaft when Vegeta caught her. He pulled her back, his grasp was firmly restraining rather than hurtful. Surprised, Appura relaxed fractionally. She let herself hope that he wouldn’t kill her. Vegeta’s gloved fingers wrapped around her chin almost gently. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

The crack of Appura’s neck breaking silenced Raditz’s cries for a moment. Vegeta carefully lowered her body to the floor. Raditz ripped himself free of Nappa’s grasp. He cradled Appura’s body against his chest and keened.

Vegeta made a small, uncertain movement toward Raditz and the older boy’s grief turned to rage. Vegeta barely had time to throw up an arm before Raditz was on him. Vegeta couldn’t bring himself to fight back even when he felt Raditz’s teeth sink into his arm. He realized that the other boy would have ripped out his throat if he’d been given the chance.

Once Nappa saw that Vegeta wasn’t going to end the fight he pulled Raditz off his prince and tossed him across the room. Raditz’s head smashed against the bulkhead and he was knocked unconscious.

Vegeta stood unsteadily. “Kiwi will come for her,” he said. “Make sure Raditz stays out until the body’s dealt with.” He carefully didn’t look at Appura.

“Yes Vegeta-ouji,” Nappa replied promptly. He hauled Raditz into the back room. Vegeta stood near Appura, keeping vigil over her body.

When Kiwi came he looked at the body with disappointment. “You actually dd it. I thought this time we’d finally get permission to make you beg.”

Slowly Vegeta looked at Kiwi. His pitch black eyes were full of hate. They’d take his life long before they took his pride.

“Nothing to say?” Kiwi asked. He picked up Appura like she was a bag of trash.

Vegeta knew he was fast enough to break Kiwi’s wrist and take Appura back. She was one of them, he wanted to see that her body was dealt with respectfully. But to do anything would be to give away how close to the mark they’d come this time. He watched Kiwi take her without protest.

* * *

 

During the week after Appura’s death Raditz refused to eat. He said nothing, he barely left his bed. The understanding that Frieza would destroy the feeblest attempt to build a new life, and that he’d do it purely out of spite, killed the spark in Raditz that had pushed him past the destruction of Vegeta-sai. His ability and desire to try to rebuild were snuffed out along with Appura.

When they were assigned to a purge Vegeta dragged Raditz to his pod and tossed him in.

“So what do we do with him?” Nappa asked when they reached the planet.

“Nothing,” Vegeta said. “We finish the job and take him back. He’ll get better when he gets better.”

“If he doesn’t starve first,” Nappa point out.

“He’ll get better!” Vegeta snapped.

“Frieza would have torn you apart if you hadn’t done it,” Nappa said. “You didn’t have any choice. It won’t be your fault if Raditz kills himself.”

Vegeta flinched. “Frieza would have killed all three of us,” he insisted. “I am Prince of all Saiyans. It’s my responsibility to keep you two alive.”

Nappa shrugged. “Whatever you say Vegeta-ouji.”

A day after Vegeta and Nappa began the purge the planet’s inhabitants came to investigate the pods that had brought their destroyers to the planet.

“It’s one of them! Kill it! Kill it now! Before it kills us!”

Raditz was only dimly aware of it as he was dragged out of this pod by the mob.

“No, this one’s damaged. We can study it. It can teach us how to kill the other two.”

“Those things killed my family! I want to see it bleed!”

“You can help vivisect it.”

Raditz felt the sharp prick of a needle. His earliest childhood memories were of people with needles caging him, running tests on him. Despite all their tests they’d been unprepared for the moon’s effect on him. In the end he’d killed them all.

The feel of the needle again woke those slumbering memories and Raditz reacted viciously. When the mob had been reduced to random body parts he stopped and looked around like a man just awakening from a long sleep.

Raditz cocked his head to the side almost curiously as he examined his bloody hands. He activated his scouter than located the largest population center left and went to work.

Three days later he caught up with Vegeta and Nappa. Vegeta was in the middle of sending Frieza’s new recruits to the most inhospitable climate available on the planet. Raditz silently took his normal place opposite Nappa, flanking Vegeta.

When Vegeta finished with the recruits he turned to Raditz. “So you’re alive again,” he said.

Raditz watched the recruits as they started preparing for the long and likely bloody trek Vegeta had tasked them with. “We’re no better than them,” he said in a voice that was harsh from disuse. “Just like them, we’ll kill anyone to survive. It’s stupid to pretend that we’re better now.”

He offered Vegeta a twisted mockery of a smile. “So who do we kill now? I’m bored standing here talking.”

 

 


	5. Epilogue: After Effects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dub-Con because Vegeta's too damaged to make it clear that he would take no for an answer and the girl's too damaged to consider that she might have a choice.

Chiri crept cautiously closer to the brightly lit segment of the way-station. She’d run out of food two days ago and if she waited much longer hunger induced weakness would make it harder for her to steal more.

She pulled the tarp she used as a cloak more tightly around her and left the relative safety of the ruins. ‘Relative safety,’ Chiri let out a bitter laugh. She knew she was lying to herself. There weren’t as many Fighters who got off on hunting the ruins; most of them got enough of that on the purges; but the ones who did hunt there were the worst sort. Chiri had never been caught by the ones who came to the ruins for their sport but that didn’t make the ruins safe. She’d just been lucky so far.

Getting caught in the city wasn’t as bad. The ones who stayed in the city generally wanted different things. Chiri didn’t necessarily like those things but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t survive. That was the important thing.

Chiri worked her way around the edge of the populated sectors. She knew there was a storage depo not too deep in the city. There she’d be able to find the sort of supplies that wouldn’t go bad. If she got lucky it would be a month or more before she had to venture out of her little corner of the ruins again.

A boisterous group of Fighters spilled out of one of the bars. Chiri shrunk back into the shadows and hoped that they’d over-look her. This time luck wasn’t with her. Several members of the group had scouters and a life of continuous running and hiding had strengthened Chiri’s ki enough for her to register.

“Hey you! You under the tarp! What do you think you’re hiding?”

Getting caught by a group was bad. Chiri had made the decision to run almost before he thought formed. She was fast and agile but even if they were drunk they were Fighters and she wasn’t One of them caught a handful of her cloak and ripped it away from her. “Hey! It’s a girl! Not bad. Not bad at all.” The Fighters laughed.

Not for the first time Chiri wondered what they saw in a skinny bit of camp trash like her. She was nothing like the great beauties of her world. She remembered her aunt’s flowing waves of sea-green hair and milky white skin. Her Aunt had brought whole rooms to a standstill just by walking in the door back in the old days before Frieza.

When Frieza’s men came Chiri’s aunt charmed one of them into sparing their lives. For a few months Chiri had lived in one of the houses in the city as her aunt’s handmaiden. It hadn’t lasted. After a few months the Fighter found another trophy and they were turned out into the streets. Chiri adapted. Her hands and feet grew callused. Her body grew lean and hard. Her aunt hadn’t adapted, she wasted away. Chiri buried her in a quiet spot and wished for the time and energy to observe her people’s mourning rituals properly but life on Planetary Way-station 609 didn’t allow for luxuries such as grief.

Next to her aunt Chiri had always felt painfully plain. She never could understand what the gang saw in a no-one like her that would make them want her. Sometimes she thought that the Fighters were so used to taking whatever they saw that they didn’t even stop to think about whether or not they actually wanted it. They took everything simply because they could.

Chiri twisted free and ran. She knew there wasn’t much hope. She didn’t know the territory and they were Fighters but she had to try. She darted around the corner and plowed straight into yet another Fighter.

The impact knocked Chiri to the ground. It had no effect on the Fighter. Chiri stared up at him fearfully. He wore a navy blue body suit with a white armored chest-plate. He had the rangy look of someone who’d recently experienced a growth spurt. He couldn’t have been much older than she was, seventeen at the absolute most. He had a flame-like shock of black hair and pitch black eyes that stared at her with an intensity that made her shake. For the first time in years Chiri felt like someone was seeing her not just another disposable bit of camp trash. More than anything it made her wanted to be anonymous and invisible again.

Then the moment passed. The other group pelted around the corner and came to an abrupt halt when they saw the other Fighter standing over their prize. Chiri hoped that they’d fight each other, there was a chance they’d be distracted enough for her to escape. The solitary Fighter dismissed the group with a haughty glance. “Find some other amusement,” he said.

“Who does he think he is?” one of the gang began.

“Vegeta, that’s who,” another cut him off with a hiss. Chiri considered the possibility that she’d stumbled from the frying pan into the fire.

The other Fighters backed off quickly and Chiri soon found herself alone with the one they’d called Vegeta.

“Well, come on girl,” Vegeta ordered brusquely. He turned around and strode off without a backward glance.

Chiri thought about making a run for it but who was she kidding? He wasn’t just a Fighter, he was the sort of Fighter who’s name could put fear in a half dozen lesser Fighters. He had to be one of the Planet Destroyers, one the ones who wiped out whole armies as a warm-up exercise.

Besides one was better than a gang wasn’t it? It wasn’t as if this were the first time this had happened to her. Chiri decided it would be best not to make him mad. She jogged after Vegeta obediently.

He led her to a spartan hotel near the space port. Chiri followed him into his room then stood there nervously waiting for his next move.

For the first time since their initial collision Vegeta looked at her. “Shower,” he instructed with a gesture toward the bathroom.

Chiri quickly scuttled past him. She breathed a sigh of relief when small barrier of the bathroom door closed between them. Quickly she shed her clothes and stepped into the shower. Warm, clean water, enough for bathing in was a rare luxury for her. She was almost smiling as she vigorously massaged soap into her scalp. After she finished bathing she risked a few minutes to scrub her clothing as well.

As she pulled on a hotel-provided bathrobe Chiri paused in front of the mirror. There was no doubt that this one, this Vegeta had seen her. She wondered what he saw that caught his interest. She wondered what she needed to change to make herself more invisible. A shower was nice, but it wasn’t worth what she knew would come next.

The mirror showed her nothing she found particularly note-worthy. Her hair was the same color as her aunt’s but never so thick or shiny, and these days she kept it cropped pragmatically short. She’d cut it herself, it formed a wild halo around her thin, pale face. Her features were sharp, high cheek-bones, a small, pointed chin and small narrow nose. Her emerald eyes were wide-set and had a perpetually startled look to them. The scarcity of food kept her body from developing much in the way of curves but she was a good enough scavenger and thief to keep her ribs from showing too prominently.

‘It was probably my eyes,’ Chiri decided bitterly. What was commonplace for one species often seemed exotic to another. ‘I didn’t mean to look at him. He startled me.’

‘I’m stalling. He’ll get mad,’ Chiri thought. She opened the bathroom door and stepped back into the main room. Chiri noticed that there was food on the table now as well as a stack of ration boxes sitting by the door. She didn’t let herself look at the food directly.

“Eat,” Vegeta said. A faint redness suffused his face. “I don’t want to listen to your stomach,” he justified.

Tentatively Chiri sat at the table and began to eat. Vegeta sat across from her. He picked at the food distractedly. ‘He’s not hungry,’ Chiri realized. The food was simply for her benefit. Chiri felt something like hope welling up inside of her. ‘Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad this time.’

When the food was gone Vegeta stood up and walked over to the bed. He pulled his armor over his head, then removed his boots and gloves. Chiri noticed an odd, fuzzy brown rope wrapped around his waist. Against the dark blue of his body suit the skin of his hands and feet looked shockingly pale.

After a brief hesitation Chiri joined him. He reached out to grab the neck of her robe then paused. His hand rested against her neck. “Tell me if I hurt you.”

“Y-yes sir,” Chiri stammered. She shivered.

Vegeta looked irritated. “Tell me so that I know to stop,” he clarified. Again his face colored, this time more brightly. “Almost never touch anyone unless I’m trying to kill them,” he muttered. His eyes dropped in embarrassment.

For the first time Chiri realized that they were of similar heights. The way he carried himself had made him seem much taller. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Vegeta slid the robe off her shoulders and allowed it to fall to the floor. He stepped back and just looked at her for a moment. His eyes were curious and Chiri felt herself blushing. Vegeta tentatively reached for her again. His fingers brushed lightly across her cheek then through her hair. He traced along the outside of her arms again, mimicking the movements of removing her robe. This time when he reached her fingertips he brought his hands back up, along the insides of her wrists. As he continued upward he shifted to tracing the lines of her body. His hands skimmed across her hips, followed the narrowing of her waist then came to rest cupping her breasts.

At first Chiri stared blankly over Vegeta’s shoulder, her eyes focused on nothing.

The fuzzy rope around Vegeta’s waist revealed itself to be a tail as it absently unwound itself. Chiri squeaked in surprise when it wrapped around her wrist. She looked at Vegeta’s tail in surprise. Then found herself watching him as he touched her. Her expression took on a vaguely puzzled expression. The other times she’d been caught they’d gone about their business with her body while she’d gone away, deep inside her mind. They’d known what they wanted from her and hadn’t hesitated about going at it. Vegeta’s curious exploration of her body, so different from what she’d come to expect, kept Chiri present.

‘Maybe something beside passivity was expected?’ Cautiously Chiri brought her hands up to rest on his waist. The material of his body-suit felt slick beneath her fingers, it was stretched tight over the tempered steel of his flesh.  
  
In response to her touch, Vegeta tugged her forward. He pulled her body flush against his. Chiri felt his breath catch as they came into more intimate contact. His hand slid to the small of her back to hold her more firmly against him. His hips flexed into her. Then he shoved her onto the bed and impatiently pulled off the rest of his clothing.

Chiri watched the play of muscles under his skin as he stripped with fascination. His body was lean and every muscle stood out in sharp definition. Her fear, the feel of being prey, returned as he crawled across the bed to her. Then he hesitated again, as if he needed a moment to figure out what he supposed to do next and Chiri relaxed.

Vegeta pulled her to him, her back to his chest. He pressed the flat of his hand into her stomach to hold their lower bodies more tightly together. When his other hand began exploring her again it was more purposeful. His hand slid between her legs and Chiri allowed them to fall open, obedient to his unspoken wishes. She squirmed and whimpered as his fingers abruptly delved into her. Then she was on her back and he was on her, pushing into her. Chiri stiffened and let out a choked-off scream as her mind began to retreat.

But he pulled back as well. “I’m sure that’s right.” The mix of uncertain embarrassment and frustrated worry in his voice brought Chiri back to herself.

She almost resented the return of her awareness. “It always hurts,” she told him raggedly. “Get it over with... please.”

Vegeta gave her an exasperated look. “It’s not supposed to. I know that much.” He pulled her back to lie cradled against his chest. His hand slid between her legs again, exploring her more cautiously and more thoroughly.

Chiri shook as his fingers found flesh that was becoming sensitized.

“What?” he rasped in her ear.

“Don’t know,” Chiri gasped. “Not hurt.”

She felt his lips curl up. He bit her ear playfully and she moaned. She felt a liquid warmth fill her.

There was less resistance as he entered her the second time. A feeling of discomfort at being invaded but nothing like before. Chiri’s gaze fixated on his gleaming white teeth biting into his lower lip as he slowly pushed deeper into her.

“Okay?” he asked his voice strained and harsh.

Chiri nodded. She gasped as he pulled back then thrust into her again. Then again and again. Each thrust more forceful than the last. Chiri’s fingers scrabbled convulsively against Vegeta’s shoulders. It was good, and it hurt but it was still good. Then it just hurt as his strength overwhelmed her.

“Stop, stop,” Chiri cried. Not really hoping but... Vegeta’s movements gentled. They came back into sync. Skin slick with sweat, moving together. He shuddered within her then went still. For the first time Chiri felt an ache of disappointment rather than relief that it was over.   
  
Vegeta lay beside her for a moment then rolled to his feet and walked to the bathroom. “Get your clothes out of here,” he ordered roughly.

Chiri scurried to obey. Along with her still damp clothes she grabbed a rag to clean up with.

Vegeta shut the bathroom door behind her as soon as she was outside. After a moment Chiri heard water running in the shower. Slowly she pulled her clothes back on. She glanced at the door out, at the ration boxes then back at the bathroom door. Hesitantly Chiri settled of the edge of the bed and waited.

After several minutes the sound of running water ceased. Vegeta emerged from the shower wearing a second robe. He gave Chiri a puzzled look then proceeded to ignore her completely. He folded his clothes and set them on the chair by the bed with his chest-plate with his gloves lying on top and his boots neatly lined up beneath the chair. When he started stacking up the bowls on the table Chiri ran to help. They set the dirty dishes on the ground outside of the door. Then Vegeta went to bed and Chiri retreated to a chair in the corner.

After several minutes Vegeta announced “I’m asleep. Steal the ration bars and run off.”

Chiri quickly picked up the boxes by the door then hesitated. He’d made multiple efforts not to hurt her. He’d given her food. He could protect her. “Could I?... I’ll be useful... I’m... My name...”

Vegeta stopped her stammering proposal with a hand over her mouth. The fear in his eyes left her stunned. “Don’t,” he ordered. “Get close to me and you’ll die. Don’t be a fool. Don’t give Death your name. Take the rations and go. If anyone asks you never met me. Get out of here!”

 


End file.
